


Hooked On A Feeling

by Avocado



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Marriage, Oral Sex, Past life, Pre-Overwatch, Second Person Fic, Sex, She/her pronouns, Smut, bisexual reader, death (mentioned in past), mako is awkward but adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8620378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avocado/pseuds/Avocado
Summary: He didn't like you. It wasn't a big thing, that's what you told yourself. You'd change his mind though.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I know it's a cringe title, but that's what I saved the document at. anyway I'm back at it again with the Overwatch smut so I hope you enjoy, I know this one gets a little more angsty than I normally go for...

_Bing!_ The microwave sounded loudly, and you slammed the button on the door to open it. The smell of hot buttered popcorn filled the air but you resisted eating any, instead tipping the bag into a bowl and heading to the – now empty – TV area of the Overwatch base. About five minutes ago you had very nicely asked Jack to vacate the room. You could tell he was grumpy about it, he’d had to stop watching some old war film in the middle – you were sure it was on he’d watched before but they all looked the same to you – but he’d done it anyway. People had a hard time saying no to you. You got on with everyone in Overwatch.

Well, almost everyone.

You plonked yourself down on the sofa and looked at the clock. It was approaching six pm. You knew you shouldn’t know someone’s schedule this well, but it wasn’t like you’d learnt it on _purpose,_ it had just sort of happened. Every day he had to pass through the room with the big TV to get to his room.

The door slid open. Roadhog walked in. It was strange how little the air smelled of smoke when Junkrat wasn’t with him. You turned around and beamed at him, trying to act as if it wasn’t him you’d been waiting for.

“Hey, Mako! I was just about to watch a movie! Would you like to join me? I have popcorn!”

Of course, it was impossible to read his expression from under his mask. But he paused for a moment, his breathing heavy, as always. You thought, maybe this time, you had him. And then…

“G’day cobber! Ah, what’s this! Y’bout to shove something on the telly? BAGS FIRST GO ON THE POPCORN!” Junkrat came in like a storm and hopped over the back of the couch without missing a beat. He landed heavily next to you. You controlled your annoyance very well. Though you loved Junkrat and enjoyed his company, it wasn’t him you were trying entice into snacks and movies. You looked back to Roadhog, who seemed as impassive as ever.

“No thanks. I’ll pass,” he stated, before leaving the room. You sagged heavily and let Junkrat snatch the popcorn bowl from your hands.

“Aww, y’already popped it all… that’s my favourite bit,” he muttered to himself, shoving handfuls into his mouth. “Anyway, what are we watching?”

You stared at the blank TV for a moment. It was the same every time. You tried to be nice to Roadhog, he ignored you. You attempted to gauge him in conversation and he didn’t reply. You didn’t know what it was that he _had_ against you, but you were determined to put an end to it. You wanted that man to be your friend.

The fact that he was _big,_ and you found that quite attractive, didn’t hurt either, but…

You shook the thought away and turned to Jamison, who had already amazingly got through half the bowl.

“Jamie?”

“Yea?”

“Why doesn’t Roadhog like me?”

He furrowed his brow but kept eating, so every sentence he said sprayed you with chunks of half chewed popcorn.

“He doesn’t not like you.”

“What?” you asked. Junkrat wasn’t the most astute of people but Roadhog was his best friend, you didn’t know how he could have missed the obvious disdain he held for you.

“He doesn’t not like you, I said. He never stops yammerin’ on about you on missions. Well, I mean, y’know. For Roadhog that is. I mean he’s mentioned ya more than twice.”

You froze. A breath was hooked in your throat in a very strange manner.

“So why is he always so cold round me?”

“Beats me. Better just ask him yerself. Anyway, if we’re gonna watch a movie, I’d like to suggest Inglorious Basterds. At least the bit at the end when the cinema blows up.”

“Junkrat, we’ve watched that at least seven times.”

“So?”

*

The next day seemed to crawl towards you slower than you could have ever thought possible, but you had made your decision. All through the film you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what Junkrat had said to you about Mako. And so you had settled on what you were going to do: you were going to talk to him.

You’d been making cakes all morning. You were pretty good at baking – with fire in general, really, seeing as on the battlefield you were armed with your own flamethrower – and you had headed to Roadhog’s quarters when they were cool enough to eat. You steeled yourself at his door, took in a deep breath, and then knocked as hard as your hand allowed.

There was silence for a moment, and you thought maybe he wouldn’t open up for you. But sure enough there was a gentle _whoosh_ and there he stood, looking down at you.

“Yes?” he asked. You swallowed the heart that was in your mouth and forced a big smile.

“Hello Mako, I have made some cakes for you. Would you like them?”

His face moved slightly, and you could tell he had gone from looking at your face to the box of cakes you had gripped tightly in your hands.

“I’m not hungry. Go and give them to Reinhardt, maybe,” he stated, and went to close the door. Without even registering it your hand shot out to the doorframe, holding it open.

“Why don’t you like me?” you asked. It came out even more pathetic than you had meant for it to. God, it was such a stupid question. Everything about this was pitiful. You considered dropping your baked goods and making a run for it.

Something strange happened. Roadhog let out a deep sigh, and then he stood to the side, and gestured you into his room. You were stunned, and sure your mouth had fallen open.

“Are you coming in or not?” he asked, after an awkwardly long silence.

“Oh, right! Yes please. Sorry.” You hurried into the room.

It was pretty big, bigger than your room, but you figured that was because he was a big guy. There were a couple of bookshelves crammed full of books, some newer, some very well-read. Apart from his bed and the door to his en-suite there was also a desk with his gun resting on it along with a few sheets of paper and a kettle, and a couple of chairs. He sat in the bigger one, turned to the desk, and started fiddling with the scrap launcher.

Another silence. You stood there, awkwardly, looking over his shoulder at equipment you didn’t understand.

“You can sit,” he said, and even though it wasn’t a command it certainly sounded like one. You looked at the scorch marks on it and figured the only visitor he regularly had was Junkrat. You perched, awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

“I’ll have one of those cakes, if they’re going,” he said, not turning. You complied, passing him the box. He looked at all the little cupcakes you had made, each in their own casing with individual icing. Very carefully, he picked one up and unwrapped it. And then, naturally, as if you weren’t even there, he lifted up his mask just enough to show his mouth.

You started as if you were watching the painting of the Mona Lisa. It was easy to forget that he had a face under that mask, sometimes. His lips were full and dark and deliciously pouting. You watched intently as he bit off a piece of the cake, even though he could have shoved the whole thing in his mouth with ease, before shaking yourself out of the thoughts that would inevitably arise if you kept thinking that way. You shifted uncomfortably as he finished eating.

“Nice,” he said, as he settled his mask back. “Good. Thanks.” And then, “Do you want some tea?”

It was very strange to hear his deep, growly voice ask such a question, but you nodded anyway. You continued to silently observe as he fished out a box from under his bed and brought out two dainty teacups with matching saucers and a teapot, and set his kettle to boil. The sound of the steam filled the silence, but luckily it was no longer particularly awkward any more. It was as if neither of you knew what to do in this situation. You watched his huge hands carefully pour out the tea.

“Milk and sugar?”

“Neither, thanks.”

He seemed a bit surprised at that but continued to pile in five sugars to his own cup before passing you yours. You drunk it gratefully, not realising how dry your mouth had been.

It was his turn to study you. You coughed awkwardly and smiled.

“I, um, like your teapot.”

“Thanks.”

Well, clearly that was the end of that conversation. You took another sip.

“You know, I could fit a scrap launcher to your flamethrower.”

“Oh… what, really?” you asked, the sudden change of conversation taking you by surprise. He nodded.

“It’d mostly be as a backup for when you need to refuel, but it might get you out of a couple of bad situations.”

You thought back to your times in the field where needing to change the fuel canister on your primary weapon had almost resulted in lost limbs. And then you recalled that, for one reason or another, Roadhog was almost always the one to shoot down whoever was coming for you. It hadn’t seemed strange, you’d just thought of it as an Overwatch duty, teammates looking out for each other and all. But, maybe…

“Wow, yeah! I’d love that! Thank you,” you said, finding yourself beaming. You finished your tea and stood up with gumption, “I mean I can go and get it right now if you-”

You had started heading towards the door, excited at the thought of what a second weapon could do for you offensively. But before you could get there Roadhog grabbed your arm. Not hard, barely even firmly, but just enough to make you stop.

“Mako…?”

“I… I don’t want you to think I don’t like you,” he said, in a voice surprisingly tender, even with the interference of the mask. “Because I do. A lot.”

Your heart was going a thousand miles a minute, because you very much hadn’t expected this visit to go this way. You moved a little bit closer to him, heading between his open legs. Sitting down, he was just about the same height as you.

“Do you?” you asked, breathily. He nodded.

“I like the way you fight. No mercy, guns blazing. I like the way you always get you own way. Even with Reyes. And I like _this,”_ his voice dropped at that last part, as his hand suddenly reached round and grabbed your ass. You gasped. He paused for a second, as if waiting for your approval to continue. You licked your lips, and he pulled you closer to him. You were now against his chest, broad and warm. Your hand went up to his shoulder for support. There was so much _muscle_ under him, so much to _grab on to._

“You like me?” you breathed. “Show me.”

He turned you round. Excited, you didn’t question it. You stood there, leant against him, and felt his hands run around your body. They were so big, but you hadn’t realised just _how_ big until you felt them on you. They traced your curves, cupped your breasts. You didn’t know when but at some point he must have taken his mask off because you could feel his hot breath on your neck and his teeth at your skin. You gasped and felt yourself growing wet just from _that._

His hand trailed down until it found the apex of your legs. Gently, he slipped it up underneath the skirt that you were wearing. He run one finger across your panties, feeling how soaked you already were, and he chuckled deeply and then placed one firm bite on your neck. You squeaked.

He worked your underwear down and reached into your folds with one hand, bringing his other up to your mouth. You opened obediently and let one large finger slip into your mouth. It tasted of tea. You run your finger around it experimentally, playing with it as if you might play with his cock. He had begun to stroke more firmly now, the pads of his fingers running up and down you, every now and then pressing into your clit and eliciting a sigh from you. When he pushed a finger up into you he felt no resistance. Instead you moaned in pleasure from around his other digit.

He stroked you on the inside, hitting that sweet spot, and then he began to fuck you with his hand. You gasped and grabbed onto him, grinding your hips down harder onto his palm, desperate to continue the stimulation. His thumb swiped over and over on your clit, mercilessly, and you gasped and almost cried in relief when your orgasm rolled over you. You felt yourself come on his hand as he held you tightly against him, keeping you steady through the ecstasy.

Your breathing was heavy and his surprisingly controlled. You felt him pull out of you and you hissed a little from the tenderness. When you turned back to him his mask was on. You moved a hand to between his legs, where you could see his cock was firm.

“Did you want me to…”

He chuckled and moved your hand away.

“Not today. Come back tomorrow?” he asked. You found yourself nodding.

You finished your tea and then stumbled back to your room, dazed, but very satiated.

*

Come back the next day you did.

And the day after that.

And the day after _that._

It wasn’t always first thing, the two of you had other duties, of course, but it was always reasonably high up on the list for both of you. Conversation wasn’t easy. You were naturally awkward and he didn’t like to talk a lot, but you fell into an easy companionship. He did, indeed, fix a scrap launcher to your flamethrower. The first time you had tried to use it the force of the thing had knocked you backwards onto the floor, winding you.

Roadhog had seemed genuinely concerned but also bit amused from the other side of the training room.

“Here,” he’d said, walking behind you and grabbing your hips firmly, “take a wider stance. The lower your centre of gravity the harder it is for you to get knocked down.”

It worked, but every time you fired you were still pushed into him. After three rounds, you felt his cock growing hard. You’d exchanged a glance and headed to the showers where you saw his dick for the first time. It was fucking _monstrous._ Huge, red, throbbing, heavy veins lining it – thick and at least nine inches long, and you weren’t sure if he was even fully hard. No wonder he had only done hand stuff to you. He probably thought the thing would frighten you off. He looked down at you through the eyeholes in his mask, as if awaiting your judgement. You’d gestured for him to move closer and kissed him on the mask. In return, he lifted his mask to reveal his lips, and he pulled you back for a proper – and when you thought about it, first – kiss. It was soft and gently and everything felt so right, standing there with the warm water pouring over the two of you, his arms wrapped around your back and yours round his neck, playing with his hair. Then you grabbed his cock. He jumped.

“I’ve got an experience of handling heavy artillery,” you had said, grinning, and used your hands so well that he came in a thick stream which rivalled the intensity of the water jets.

He got you back for that one. You weren’t planning on visiting him that day, not until evening anyway, but suddenly you had felt a tightening around your waist. You looked down to see his hook round you. You let out a little ‘meep’ before you found yourself being thrown backwards into his arms, into one of the storage rooms for training bots. The room was not big and Roadhog was not small, so the position was awkward, but he still got your pants off you and he sat you on one of the shelves at his face height. His mask was raised just enough to show his mouth again, and he pushed himself into your cunt as if he was a starving man and you were ambrosia. You cried out in ecstasy, throwing your head back as his tongue, thick and heavy, lapped against your clit. You felt the eyes of the powered-off bots judging you but you were too horny to care.

He was a fucking _expert._ His tongue was clever, knowing just where to go, at what pressure. Every now and then his teeth got involved and you squealed (ironic, he’d say later, seeing as he was the hog). You came into his mouth and he licked you clean.

You were sure people had noticed the change between the two of you. The way you were always together now. Nobody brought it up though, save Junkrat, who asked a never-ending an unanswered string of questions about your sex life. You scolded the man whereas Roadhog just flat out ignored him. But it did get you to thinking. It had been over a month since your little… affair?... had started, but you hadn’t actually had sex. You’d done just about everything with hands and mouths – even though your jaw had ached for _days_ after – but not actual _sex._ You guessed maybe he was worried. You weren’t _thin,_ exactly, but you were much smaller than he was. He was probably concerned about hurting you. But you trusted him not to.

The next day you went into his room. He had given you his passcode weeks ago, and you didn’t want him to know you were going to be there – you had on your nicest, laciest lingerie, and had a few candles to light. You knew it was cheesy but you thought it might lighten the mood for him.

You got to work lighting the candles and fished out a packet of tea from your pocket. It was meant to have aphrodisiac properties to it – at least that’s what Widowmaker had said, you weren’t quite sure if you trusted her – and you figured it would be a nice way to start the evening. You knew where he kept his tea bits, so for the first time you reached under his bed and pulled out the box.

There was the teapot and cups, yes – but there was something else too. A photograph in a frame. Puzzled, you picked it up to get a better look. There was a smiling man, big, well-built. Even though he didn’t have a mask, you could tell it was Roadhog. Next to him was a homely-looking woman, beaming, a young child in her arms, and an older one to her side. Roadhog had his arm around her. He looked proud.

“What are you doing?”

His voice made you jump, and you dropped the photo. A crack splintered across the glass frame. Roadhog stood in the doorway, over you. He was unnaturally still. The air in the room was tense.

“I… was going to make tea…”

“Get out,” he said. There was anger there, at you, for the first time. And even though it was distorted by the mask, you could have sworn you heard a sob in his voice. You hesitated before pushing past him to run out the room, your own tears beginning to form.

You sat in your room, alone, crying a little. A few hours passed in silence. You knew everyone had their own history before coming to Overwatch, but… Roadhog. Was he married? Did he have a wife and children back in Australia? Were you just some _plaything_ to him? The thought hurt terribly.

There was a knock at the door. You wiped away your tears and answered it, expecting to find Lena, who you had asked to bring you chocolate. But, instead, it was Mako. You stared at each other for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” he stated. It was genuine, even if it sounded like he’d had to work up to saying it. “Can I come in?”

You considered, and nodded. He walked in and sat down carefully on your bed. He’d been in your room before, but you mostly went to his – it was bigger and more accommodating of his size.

He took in a deep breath. And he started to speak.

“Back before the omnic crisis. I had a wife. And two girls. I loved them very much. When we were taken off our land so it could be given to the omnics I was angry. Angry that they’d do that to my family. And so I fought against them. The omnics. On the Liberation Front. So did my wife. I tried to stop her but she stuck by me. We destroyed the omnic’s fusion core. She was killed in that battle. And my girls died from the radiation poisoning. And then it was just me. It was my fault they all died. I’m a one man apocalypse.”

It was the longest thing he’d ever said, and you listened to it silently, tears in your eyes.

“Oh, Mako, you didn’t kill… I’m sorry, I didn’t…” but it seemed silly to say that now. So silly and inadequate. You cleared your throat deeply.

“I had a girlfriend. Before all this. I met her when she was pregnant. We raised her son together. She was the light of my life, you know… but they died in a land skirmish a few years ago. I couldn’t save them,” the words were awkward and forced, but true. You never talked about her. To anyone, especially not to Mako. There had never been a good time. And it was a pain too deep in your heart. You had tried to bury the feeling, bury the sadness by throwing yourself into the fighting, into Overwatch. And you thought, with Mako, maybe you could finally move on.

His hand found yours and you sat there in silence for a while.

“I’m never gonna be her. And I won’t try to be. But I love you, Mako.”

He was still. Then his hands went up to his mask, and he took it off fully for the first time. He was handsome, in a way. His nose was a bit snubbed and his eyes were small, but when you saw him your heart almost beat out of your chest. He reached down and kissed you, softly, sweetly.

“I love you too.”

And then, as if you were both looking for redemption and comfort in the other’s lips, you fell onto the bed. Mako stayed below you as you were in a tumble of hands and mouths, and he didn’t say anything when you reached into your draw and pulled out some lube, stroking it onto his cock. But when you positioned yourself above him he grabbed you.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice deep without the mask, but less growling. You nodded.

“I want you inside me Mako. I want you so badly it _hurts._ ”

You pressed his tip into your entrance and it slid in, your own wetness helping it. You sunk down and hissed as you felt yourself stretch.

“I –”

“Shh,” you said, concentrating. You slipped further down his dick, gasping, and it stretched you out deliciously. His hand found your clit and rubbed it gently, helping you through the strange feeling.  You took an inch, and another.

“Love, I don’t want to hurt you, I think you should stop…” he started to say, but you reached down and cupped his cheek. Tears were in your eyes from the pleasure-pain, but you kept going.

“I. Want. More,” you stated, and pushed yourself so he was fully sheathed in you. You gasped in pleasure as you felt him, filling you up entirely, aware of the slight bulge he made from being fully in you. You stole a glance down and saw his head thrown back, his own ecstasy snaring him.

His hands settled on your waist and he brought you up and down his cock. It only took a few strokes before the sensation of it all sent you over the edge, but it took a few more before you felt his dick pulse and he came inside of you, heavy and hot. You fell onto his chest and looked into his eyes, dark and kind. He brushed a hair from your face, and he smiled.

*

Everyone had been surprised at the announcement. Of course, after being together for over a year, all members of Overwatch knew you were together. But a _wedding?_ Unheard of.

In the mess hall the tables had been pushed back and pretty, lacy decorations had been put up. You hadn’t wanted anything big, you’d agreed. It was about the bond and not the ceremony. Winston officiated. Nobody was quite sure how he had got the marriage licence but at the same time nobody questioned it.

At least Junkrat had put some effort into his appearance as best man. He was wearing what he usually wore but had tied a bow tie round his bare neck and swept back his hair. He had also pierced his ear with a cufflink _all by himself_ , as he would gloat during the reception. You worried it would turn gangrenous but there would be time to worry about that later.

“…You may kiss the bride!” Winston finished. The hall went mad as Mako took off his mask, dropped it to the floor, and kissed you deeply. You couldn’t help but laugh as, instead of confetti, everyone threw popcorn in the air for you.

It was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> a lot of this stemmed from a conversation with my friend, especially the one man apocalypse thing. so blame her for any emotions over that, not me...


End file.
